Page:Joseph and His Brethren A Pageant Play.djvu/81

 Zuleika!

If I give thee my love, to-morrow thou wilt scorn it!

Woman! Thou drivest fear out of my heart, and fillest it with madness!

Withdraw thy word from the slave!

That I cannot.

[In tears] Scorned!—I am scorned!

[Seizing her] Scorned—! Thou art loved! Thou art mine—! Zuleika! Zuleika!

What now? [Heavy knocking at door, at R.] Ha!

The Hebrew slave—

[Furious] Joseph!—

[To herself] Joseph—! [With a low laugh] He loveth me!

My lord! My lord!

Accursed slave! What is't?

Alas, not my errand, my lord—

Who dares, then—?

[With a salute] The Pharaoh.

[Startled] The Pharaoh—?

Imhotep, the Lord Chief Butler, beareth a letter from Pharaoh—